Green Eyes
by Mercy2908
Summary: A man rides away, trying to find some comfort


**Green Eyes**

A shadow of his own hunched figure and his horse projected in front of the rider as he slowly led his loyal mount nowhere in particular. The bright May sun hovered low on the horizon, readying itself to dive in and say goodbye to another long day. The barren, rough land he was ridden through spread endlessly before his eyes, and it seemed to suffocate him beyond reason. It was not one of his best days, and once again his hotheaded personality had got him into hot water. Everything had started off simply enough, a mere discussion about checkers, but somehow that had turned into a heated argument. He told himself he should have more sense than let himself fly off the handle for unimportant reasons. It was just a game, for goodness' sake, he voiced out loud, and even his horse let out a whine. The rider tapped the animal's neck affectionately and a strange smile timidly changed his grim countenance momentarily.

It had been an accident, he thought for the umpteenth time. He did not even remember how it had happened. He just knew that once again Cody had made him boil with fury, and his hand had got hold of his gun and drew it out of its holder. His intention was simple enough; he just wanted to give Cody a good scare, but then the next thing he knew was that the gun went off and the bullet hit Teaspoon's arm when the marshal appeared in the bunkhouse out of the blue. The impact had knocked the marshal down onto the floor. Hearing the older man's groans and seeing his shirt sleeve soaked in blood, the rider had frozen. The others had quickly run to help Teaspoon, but he had been unable to move a muscle, too embarrassed, ashamed and scared. His heart had started thumping powerfully in his chest, a cold sweat broke out, and he was trembling from head to foot. Something had suddenly snapped inside his head, and he had dashed out of the house, jumped onto his horse, and galloped out of there as if he were fleeing from hell.

The rider halted his horse when he came to discover a shabby old houses rising in the middle of nowhere. From the distance he could see women scantily dressed, engaged in conversation with men and also in some non-verbal exchanges. He had heard that there was a bawdy house in these parts, far from town, and it was said to be a very popular spot for men to hit. The rider had not known until now where the brothel was because actually it did not really interest him.

Tugging the reins of his horse, the rider was about to lead it in the other direction, but he stopped when something caught his eye. A woman walked out from one of the houses, but she remained at the entrance and leant her round hips on the jamb of the door. The rider did not know what drew his attention to this stranger. Somehow she looked and bore herself different from the others. She was attractive, but not a true beauty. Her long, jet black hair fell in wavy ringlets down her back and her sides. She had a small mouth and nose, and very expressive eyes, and she was wearing an off-white, flimsy dress that left her bony shoulders uncovered.

Her mouth formed into a wide smile, the woman looked at the men walk past her, clearly intending to spark some attention and interest. Suddenly, her gaze spotted the lonely rider watching her so intently, and in the distance she boldly stared at the young man. Something in those expressive eyes of hers called to him, and without even being aware of what he was doing, he kicked his horse into motion and very slowly he made his way to the spot where the woman stood.

For a few seconds they held their gazes, and now closer to her the rider could see that her eyes were emerald green of a beautiful shade he had never seen before. That green reminded him of fresh basil and immature wheat that spread in infinite layers over the fields of his home town, or the green of the beautiful forests in the spring. But they also shone like cold metal, the sharp end of a dangerous knife, which seemed to have stuck somewhere in his soul.

Averting his eyes, the rider fished out of his jacket pocket one of the small cigars he occasionally afforded the pleasure of. Holding the cigar between his fingers, he asked, "Do you have a light?"

The woman let out a giggle, and narrowing her eyes flirtingly, she said, "Why don't you come here and find it? I've often been told that my mouth is pure fire."

The rider chuckled, and sliding off the horse, he walked up to the woman. "Let's see if that's just a legend or truth," he said. Without averting his eyes from her green ones, the rider threw the cigar away, and cupping her nape in his hand, he brought her lips to his, and demanded a deep, intense kiss. It was true; she had fire, consuming fire that engulfed his soul intensely like flames spreading through fields of dry grass. Whatever was happening back in the bunkhouse did not matter anymore; all he cared about now were her lips and her beautiful body he dared tentatively touch with his gloved hands. Reluctantly, he pulled away out of breath, and kept staring at her eyes, which were so close she could drown in them. A sigh escaped his mouth when he noticed her move away, turn around, and get inside the building. For a moment the rider stood rooted on the spot, almost in a haze after their kiss, but as the woman cast him a look over her shoulder, he did not hesitate and his feet started moving and followed this angel or demon wherever she wanted to take him.

* * *

Fully awake after a night like no other, the two lovers lay on the pallet in the decaying room, the sheets crumpled in a heap at the edge of the thin mattress. The first rays snuck into the place, making the poor state of the room more evident to their eyes. A bell resounded in the distance, announcing the beginning of a new day. The rider turned his head to his side and bumped into those mesmerizing green eyes that had been his sun, his stars, and moon in this amazing night.

The pleasant thoughts that the beautiful woman inspired in him were marred by the restlessness and worry about what might be happening at the station. Teaspoon surely was fine because it had been just a graze in his arm, but he could not help but feel ashamed for the way he had fled like a thief. He really did not look forward to going back, and wanted to extend the moment more.

Stretching his arm towards her, the young man brought her beautiful mouth to his once again, as he probed and adored every inch of her lips, her softness, her intensity, and expertise. The kiss ended too soon for his taste, but he knew he could not prolong this dream any longer. His body itched to join hers again, but his mind yanked him in the opposite direction. His whole self hurt as he moved away from her. His mouth still had her taste... something so sweet and fresh like cinnamon and mint, and his nose still felt her sweet scent to lemon verbena and wild flowers.

As the rider picked up his discarded clothes scattered around the room, the woman kept watching him. He quickly got dressed, and she left the bed, and walked to him without bothering to cover her nakedness. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder. Once again he felt attracted to her electrifying eyes, and a smile brightened his features. The rider slid his hand on his pocket, and grabbed a coin. "Ma'am, take this, and buy yourself something pretty."

The woman shook her head, and closed his hand around the coin. "It's fine. You don't have to give me anything."

The rider nodded his head, and got ready to leave. "I ain't gonna see you again, am I?"

The young man stopped at the ajar door, and looked back at her. He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry."

Feeling he could not look at her eyes again, he almost ran out of the room and the building. He was certain he would not live another beautiful May night like this one again, and with his heart full of passion and desire, he jumped onto the horse and rode away.

_The End_

_Based on the song "Ojos Verdes" by Quintero, León, and Quiroga._

3


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